


detail each crime that killed me before you

by izurulovesboats



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: (when does he not but still), Confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Referenced Trauma, brief blood, strife has questionable coping methods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 07:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izurulovesboats/pseuds/izurulovesboats
Summary: God forbidtheWilliam Strife not speak his mind. He never spares anyone's feelings, especially when Parvis is in the picture. So why was he holding back?





	detail each crime that killed me before you

**Author's Note:**

> im absolutely estatic at the positive feedback on the last fic so heres this thing ive been working on for like a week 💫

The morning was almost normal. Parvis woke up, bugged Strife about coming over, thought about what they might do today, and then pestered Strife some more. After spamming Strife’s phone and figuring out he wasn’t even awake yet, (which was weird, it’s.. almost noon. He stores this information for later), he decided they would just do some simple blood magic, due to him needing to upgrade the altar to Tier 5 anyway. Chill, but productive. 

 

When Strife arrived, he looked as tired as ever, the long term bags under his eyes making this evident. This wasn’t out of the norm for the CEO, but something was.. off. Instead of his usual “Lets get this over with, Parvis” attitude, he seems not quite there. Like he was disassociating. He files that detail away in his mind along with the fact that he woke up late under “The Weird Things Strife Has Done Today”. But after a few hours of just chilling out, Parv went to work at the altar while Strife observed from afar, as always. 

 

He looked down at the blood altar, looking at Strife immediately after. Strife wasn’t paying attention, looking down at his phone, probably checking his email. His glasses were perched on top of his head, almost getting engulfed by his bright, fluffy blonde hair. He was so damn sophisticated, and yet, Parvis could tell everything he was trying to think with his body language. He was focused, perhaps too much so. He hasn’t spoken in what feels like hours. Maybe he could suggest adventuring, maybe that will get Strife to, at  _ the very least, _ emote. 

 

He looked down at the altar again, sighing as he continued to deposit blood into the curved table, it radiating with heat and moody red light as every drop of blood dripped slowly from his palm into the rounded bowl of the altar. It was an addiction, and while it could probably have life ending affects if it wasn’t careful, he found it oh-so therapeutic when the energy from the small dagger touched his skin. 

 

It calmed him from thinking about why Strife was sticking around when he obviously  _ despised  _ the practice, calling it immoral and “potty-mouthed” whenever the situation called for it. And from thinking about how whenever he asked Strife about what could’ve possibly formed these opinions, he’d go pale and dismiss the question, leave the room, or flat out ignore him. Not to mention the downright  _ questionable  _ appearance differences from this morning compared to literally every other that Parv has spent with him. He huffs to himself, biting his lip as he thinks,  _ He can’t keep acting like he’s fine with it if he isn’t,  _ Parv figures,  _ Maybe he’s just hiding it to spare my feelings?  _

 

He sighed, putting the dagger down as the newly deposited thick blood bubbled and broiled, slowly enveloping the stone in the bowl and slowly getting absorbed by the newly made blank slate. God forbid  _ the  _ William Strife not speak his mind. He never spares  _ anyone's  _ feelings, especially when Parvis is in the picture. So why was he holding back? Personal reasons? Then, suddenly, his mind clicks something that he hasn’t thought of before.  _..Maybe he’s scared of it.  _

 

He wiped off the leftover fluid from his palm on his jeans when he turned to Strife from across the room and to the stairs to the loft where all his supplies were, “You wanna know what I’m thinking, Will?”

 

Parv notices Will try to suppress a yawn before saying, “Not really, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” 

 

Parv takes a breath, secretly grabbing the small dagger with shaking hands and sliding it in his pocket, heading over to where Strife was sitting, and sitting next to him, his amber eyes gleaming in the light, “I think you’re scared.”

 

William immediately scoffs, smirking as he keeps his eyes locked on his phone, “Enlighten me, Parvis. What could I be scared of? You doing blood magic?”

 

“While that may be some of it, I don’t think that’s it.”

 

“Spit it out then, Parv.” he exclaims, looking up at the bloodmage, “I don’t have all day.”

 

Parvis took a breath, then slid the dagger out from his pocket, and holding out to Strife. And as expected, Strife quickly slid his phone away into his pocket as he paled, keeping his eyes on the dagger as he tries to back into the stairs with no avail. “Wh-Why the hell would you think I was..  _ a-afraid _ of this shitty piece of plastic?” William stutters, obviously disturbed by the dagger being so close to him. His eyes dilate, but luminate the surrounding area of his face with bright green, along with fear and a silent message of  _ “Don’t. Please.”  _  “That’s stupid, really.” he breathes, gaining composure, “What’s gotten into you, Alex?”

 

Parv’s face softens as he puts the blood-stained weapon down, “Trust me, Will, you’ve stuck around so much that I know you. More than you might think.” He scoots closer to him, gently lowering his voice “You can tell me if this bothers you, Strife.”

 

There’s a dreaded silence that washes over them both, filled with tense air that you couldn’t easily slice with a particle disassembler. After a few minutes of this, and Parvis nervously fidgeting, Will huffs, his glamour fading, his face lighting up as the little specks of luminescent green light appear across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, “I didn’t want to tell you, honestly..”

 

“It’s obvious that something’s bothering you, though!” Parv huffs, running a hand through his hair, looking down at the alien who’s now pushed his sunglasses back on his face, “Look, Will, I don’t want to continue with you hiding everything from me. If we’re going to keep working together, I need you to be.. open, with me. I care about you, really.” 

 

Strife looks up to the bloodmage and slyly grips his arm, rubbing circles into his skin as it lit up under his moving thumb. He was nervous, and Parvis could very much tell that this was something serious that he’s been hiding for a while. He couldn’t tell how much Parvis really  _ knew,  _  but it seemed like Parvis knew his shit. He takes a breath, clearing his throat, “L-Listen, Alex..” He stutters, surely taking his time and trying not to overstimulate himself, which Parvis took note of and stayed patient with the businessman, “I-It’s a lot, and I.. I don’t think I’m ready to tell you right now, and I can’t assume I will be until.. far later, maybe. Just keep in mind I have..” He stops to think about what he should say, looking back down at the ground to avoid Parvis’ gaze. “I-I have a past with it. Not a good one. It’s.. It’s bad, okay?” 

 

Parvis’ eyes soften, sighing. He didn’t know that Strife had a reason to hate the practice. He just figures that it was a generalized “Magic vs Science” ordeal, like it usually is with many other people he has talked to in the area. And even then, Strife has never been really  _ open  _ about his past, and quite frankly, he thinks that Strife has a much worse past than what he has implied, considering this is the only time he’s really brought it up without being vague, however he feels that it is important that he doesn’t pry further. After all, this is the only time Strife has really been  _ real  _ with him. Not pushing him aside, or mouthing him off, or anything like that. This is serious. 

 

Parvis nods, taking a breath “I understand. I appreciate the clarification, just.. keep in mind I’m here for you, okay? No matter how much time you need.”

 

Strife looks back up at Parv, looking genuinely taken aback by the mage. After a while, though, he relaxes and gently smiles “Thank you.” He nervously chuckles, clearing his throat again, “Anyway, I was just about to suggest that we go adventuring, maybe? I need to stop by the Strife Solution building anyway.” 

 

Parvis smiled, nodding as he got up from the staircase and proceeding to step up it, to where the chests are, and absolutely excited because of the fact that it’s confirmed Strife trusts him too, “Sure! Let me get some things ready!” 


End file.
